Technology at scale preferentially industrialises the parts of human nature that are easiest to measure, repeat, monetise, automate, and weaponise. Those parts are rarely our best ones.
Technology at scale preferentially industrialises the parts of human nature that are easiest to measure, repeat, monetise, automate, and weaponise. Those parts are rarely our best ones.
Institutional incompetence fuels political opportunism. Social media rewards outrage, nobody accepts responsibility, and democracy inherits the bill.
Governments invest heavily in defending against foreign interference while neglecting the administrative failures that make societies vulnerable. Bureaucracy has perfected the art of becoming indispensable without necessarily becoming useful.
How engagement incentives, selective censorship and data extraction weaken cooperation, and why peace depends on changing what our communications systems reward.
As the world approaches catastrophic conflict, wealth and power remain invested in preserving the arrangements driving instability. Asking for peace has become almost absurd, while preparing for destruction is considered perfectly sensible.
We have spent billions of years becoming what we are, yet our political and economic systems increasingly reward the destruction of the complex relationships that sustain us. What we stand to lose is beyond calculation, and the tragedy is how unnecessary so much of it is.
Billions of years of planetary evolution, and here we are, contemplating our own self-destruction, along with much of the living world, in pursuit of wealth, power and other elaborate fictions we have mistaken for necessities.
Humanity is caught in a planetary feedback trap. Our technologies, institutions and political systems increasingly reproduce the psychological instability they intend to resolve.
The paradox is how to preserve a planetary civilisation’s capacity for emergent self-regulation without irreversibly surrendering it to the political, economic and technological artefacts, entities and systems established to manage and control it.
We mistake the world we inherit for a world that must be this way. History, habit and collective belief conceal a more uncomfortable truth: our civilisation is simply what did happen, not what had to happen.
The flying car illustrates the peculiar absurdity of developing increasingly sophisticated means of getting somewhere while losing collective control over where we are going.
Technology, corporate power, political division and institutional decay are undermining civilisation. Understanding how these forces reproduce themselves is the beginning of change.